


How Much Is That Doggy In The Window?

by SnowWhiteKnight



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Magic, Prompt Fill, Sandor is Stranger, Stranger is a dog
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-09
Updated: 2017-09-09
Packaged: 2018-12-25 11:59:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12035445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SnowWhiteKnight/pseuds/SnowWhiteKnight
Summary: PSA: Adopt, don't shop!





	How Much Is That Doggy In The Window?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lalelilolu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lalelilolu/gifts).



> Lalelilolu asks: What about a literally dog!Sandor, who can transform, is adopted by Sansa Stark to get over a abusive relationship and then finds man!Sandor in her bed the day after. Cuddling up to him.
> 
> I altered the original prompt (see above) with the consent of the prompter.

_ I hate this, _ Sandor thought. He had been born a dog, had lived as a dog, but no dog was as smart or cunning as him because he wasn't truly a dog. He was a human, stuck in a dog's body. 

He remembered his life as a human. He remembered going into his job as an underground cage fighter. He remembered the fight was bad. Real bad. Wun Wun had done a number on him. He remembered walking away. He remembered going to his car that he had parked in the alley, and he remembered the sharp pain he felt as someone hit him in the back of the head with a concrete filled lead pipe. He died in that alley. Some drunk, asshole gambler that lost money on Sandor's fight. Truth be told, he felt that it was a fitting end for him. He had been a terrible person, ugly inside and out. 

He had outsmarted many humans as a dog, could understand the humans well enough to escape the dog fighting ring he had been born into, his mother found by the owner before he and his siblings had been born. He had mauled the owner before leaving. It was bad enough he had fought as a human, but he had had a choice then. These poor mutts didn't. He had been able to free a lot of them, the ones he knew wouldn't attack any humans trying to help. Later on, he caught a news story on the dog fighting ring. Some celebrity had decided to take them in, rehab them and what not. Sandor was glad. They weren't bad dogs, just scared and mistreated. 

He lived on the streets after that, but the dog catcher had caught him while he was sleeping, the bastard. Now he was on week seven of his stay at the pound, watching the people come in to browse for a new pet. 

_ Stupid. How did you manage to drive here and not kill yourself? _ he thought to himself as he watched the older blond man race from cage to cage, looking at all the animals in the shelter. The woman with him, practically a man herself, was calmer, looking at each dog.  _ The idiot might be worth putting up with if she's a good owner, _ he thought, sitting up and thumping his tail a little when the man got near his cage. He knew the drill. Be cute and nice, and maybe they'll adopt you. He was at a disadvantage for the cute part, being big, ugly and mangled from his fight days, but he could be nice, even if it killed him.

"Wench, look at this one. Ugly fellow, isn't he?" the man said. The woman joined him in front of his cage. It was humiliating, but he bowed his head to her in submission and sniffed at her fingers when she offered them.

"Seems alright," she said, smiling at the large black dog. He thumped his tail a little harder.  _ Maybe! Maybe they'll adopt me!! _ He knew his time was running out. He'd be on the kill list if he wasn't adopted this week. Not something he wanted to consider. "Awful name though. We'd have to change it. What do you think, Jaime?"

"I think I want a cat instead. Dogs are too wolf like for my tastes." Sandor's heart dropped. He lay down, whining a little. "Oh...it's like he understood."

"They can't understand, Jaime, not like that," the woman said. "But he probably felt the change in your energy. Sorry, boy. I'm sure you'll get a new master soon though." The woman stuck her fingers through the wire door to pet him one last time before the two walked away.

**********

Podrick, the man who took care of the animals, walked to his cage. "Sorry about that, fella. I'm sure someone will pick you. I have a good feeling." 

He knew Pod meant well, but he wasn't getting his hopes up.

**********

"This one looks promising, don't you think, Lyanna?" An athletic, older woman spoke to someone out of the dog's view. He licked her hand, savoring the taste of bacon that lingered on it. Must have just come from lunch. Small footsteps approached.

"He's too skinny." Sandor looked at the little girl, and barked a protest. He was not skinny. The vet last week had complained that he was a little overweight. "Fine, not fluffy enough. I want a dog that looks like a small bear."

"We do have time, sweetie. Why don't we look around a bit more?"

**********

"I want your meanest looking dog," he heard. His ears perked up.  _ Mean? I look mean. _ He wasn't the only one, but he was also the best behaved. A perk of being able to understand human speech. “I need a dog that someone thinks twice about approaching.”

"We have a few mean looking ones," Pod said. "This doberman, for instance." Sandor could hear the whimper from "Killer". The dog may look mean, but he was as mild as a buttercup and scared of his own shadow. "This one is Snake, a chow mix."  _ Definitely as mean as he looks, _ Sandor thought. Snake had killed his fellow pets in the last family he had been with. He was strictly designated for a "single pet family."

"What about this one?" A young woman stopped in front of Sandor's cage. She was medium build, eyes nearly as grey as his own. "He looks mean."

"Ah, yes, he's quite vicious looking, but he's a good dog. He's been with us for a while now," Pod said. “Really smart, too.”

"Hey! Sansa! Come'ere! I think I found the one." The woman peered at him. "Ugly as sin though..."

"He must have had a horrible master at one point, to have either done this, or allowed it to have happened," Pod said, offering him a treat. Sandor took it gratefully. Pod always spoiled the dogs with the best treats. Not like that awful community service woman, Myranda. Or the flighty one, Margaery, though she was nice enough.

“My sis is kindhearted to the point of illness. She'll treat him well. Her last dog… she died under mysterious circumstances. Way too friendly, and definitely way too trusting. This one… almost like he can understand what's going on.”

He heard dainty footsteps approach. "Arya, you found one already?"

"Yep, look, he's the meanest looking one here, but this dude," she slapped Pod on the back, causing him to stagger. "He says he's a good boy. And smart. So, what do you think?"

Sandor watched as a wisp of a woman appeared, long red hair nearly shrouding her too pale face, blue eyes that looked lost. He could feel the sadness and pain rolling off of her. He pawed at the cage door, whimpering a little. The woman, Sansa, gave him a small smile that didn't reach her eyes and offered him her fingers. He gave her a tentative lick. There was something familiar about her.  _ Home. She reminds me of home. _

"He seems... I don't know... He seems right." She knelt before him. "So..." She looked at the card that held his name. "Stranger. Seems fitting. Would you like to come home with me?" 

He barked, his tail thumping happily.

"You'll need to fill some paperwork out, but if you'd like to take him out now, I'm willing to look the other way about it." Pod gave Sandor a thumbs up.  


"Thank you. Yes, I'd like that, so we can get used to each other sooner." The woman, Sansa, opened the cage. "Come on out."

He took a cautious step, and glanced at Pod, who was smiling broadly. He quickly got out of the cage and sat next to his new mistress.

"Such a good boy," she said, kneeling beside him and wrapping her arms around him. "So huggable, too. My hound, my strong, brave hound. If I hadn't made up my mind already, I would have at this very moment."

He felt a pang in his heart, and smiled as well as any dog could.

**********

The paperwork taken care of, the next step was a stop at the nearby pet store. It was the kind that let owners bring their dogs inside, so long as they were leashed, had their shots, and were well-behaved. His new mistress's sister had opted to stay behind and chat with Podrick.

Sandor had never seen the man look so happy and terrified at the same time.

He turned his nose up at the yappy little dog in the cart they passed on the way in. It looked like an inbred chihuahua, light golden fur and green eyes. He matched his owner, an older blonde woman who looked and smelled suspiciously like that Jaime guy earlier, only worse. 

"There, there, Joffrey," she said to the chihuahua. "The ugly old brute can't get you." The dog whined and promptly peed on his owner, who didn't seem to notice. 

"Here," Sansa said, guiding him to the collar and leash aisle. "What do you think of this one?" She held up a bright orange collar. He sniffed it, then turned away. She giggled. "Yeah, it is a bit garish. Oh, what about this? Spiky."

She held up a spiked leather collar. It was similar to the collar his last owner had given him, and he hated that guy. He growled at it. 

"That's a definite no. Ok, oh, what about this one? Not too vulgar, but a nice spot of color amidst all that black fur." She held up a plain blue collar. It was nice. He wagged his tail happily. "Ok, so this is the one. I'm thinking a black and blue leash, though. This one has blue stripes, but this one has blue polka dots." She held up two matching leashes. He nosed the one with the stripes. Like hell he was going to wear polka dots. She laughed. "You certainly know what you want. Alright, let's go order a tag for you, then browse the food aisle."

**********

Sandor sat next to the car as his mistress  struggled to load the car with the giant bag of dog food. He wished he was human, just so he could help her. He tried his best, which involved pushing the bag with his nose until it toppled over into the trunk. She had turned down an offer of help from the cashier. Sandor could feel the tension on her as the man had eyed her, and he had gotten in between them. 

"Do you need some help, miss?"

Sansa whirled around, the same tension in her body as before. Sandor wondered about that as he became the barrier between her and the strange man. Pod hadn't caused that tension in her, but Pod had been more interested in her sister. 

"No, thank you. I have a good handle on it," she said politely. The man took a step forward, smiling, but Sandor could read his energy and he didn't like what he saw. He growled at the man, a warning,  _ Back off from my mistress! _

"Whoa, not a friendly pooch you got there. I teach dog obedience classes, if you're interested." The man was still smiling but his gaze was not on her eyes. Sandor's growling increased. 

"Thank you, but no. We're ok. We really must be going." She shut the trunk and called Sandor over to the driver side door. He hopped in first, climbing over the center console, and glared at the man as Sansa turned the car on and sped off out of the parking lot. 

**********

"Stranger, it's time to go to bed now." 

Sandor looked up at her. He had been chewing on a squeaky toy and was nearly at the squeaker. Sansa led a calm, quiet life. For the past few months, they had had a solid routine. Wake up in the morning, do his business on the shrubs that belonged to the bitch of a neighbor, come back in and get ready for a morning run. Sansa let him off the leash for that, since he was such a good boy and stayed by her side the entire run. In reality, he didn't think he could let her be alone because she might have a panic attack. He had wandered off ONE time and she had broken down in tears, thinking she had lost him. She was doing better, that much he could tell, but she did still get anxious when he wasn't around. 

After the morning run was breakfast. Sansa spoiled him and bought three different kinds of kibble. She'd mix them together in various ratios so that no meal was exactly the same as a previous one. After that she'd go to work with her elder brothers, who loved Sandor. She'd come home at lunch, play with Sandor a little while microwaving her lunch, then go back to work until the early evening. They would play, and Sansa would cook for herself while telling Sandor about her day. Sometimes Arya would come over, or her parents.

Mrs. Stark called Sandor her fur grandbaby and spoke to him in baby talk, which he did not like, but she also gave him the good treats, which he did like. Mr. Stark was hesitant at first, but after dogsitting for an afternoon, he had grown to like him as well. 

After dinner, Sansa would read. Or knit. And talk. She talked a lot. Sandor learned a lot about her in that time. He would sit at her feet and just listen to the steady click of her knitting needles and the soothing sound of her voice. It wasn't long before Sandor knew that he loved her, that he would die to make sure she was never hurt again. 

She had had a bad experience with her ex-boyfriend. Sandor had been horrified to hear how the man had beaten her, broken her delicate body, had threatened her family if she ever left him. She had been scared for her life when she broke up with him. Her parents had urged her to move back home, but her job was in the city and she loved it too much to leave. Every precaution had been taken to keep her safe. Including getting a mean looking dog.

Sandor took his protective role very seriously. He had originally had a bed for himself next to hers, but she tossed and turned so much because of nightmares that he had taken to sleeping in her bed next to her. It helped, though she wasn't one hundred percent over them. She had smacked him more than a few times in her sleep, but it was worth the pain to know she felt comforted by his presence. Sometimes, when he dreamed, he dreamt of being around Sansa in his previous human form, of talking to her, of walking with her on two legs instead of four, just being with her. He woke up grumpy on those mornings. It was just a reminder that he would never be able to be with the woman he was in love with. 

When they went on walks, he made sure to keep between her and everyone else. He was so well behaved, that he was soon accepted just about everywhere she went. The grocery store made him wear a vest that said “Special Needs K-9” that was very itchy, but again, it was worth it. Once a week, they went to the local hospital to visit patients. Sandor would have to wear these special booties, but he enjoyed laying down on the cool tile of the hospital floor. Sansa would read to patients, one in particular, a comatose man. She explained to Sandor that the man had unknowingly saved her life once, so she read to him, hoping he would one day wake up so that she could thank him. 

Sandor was also able to go to work with her eventually. She worked for Tarth Design Co., an architectural firm that “specialized in functional art.” It was a load of hooey, in his opinion, but it made Sansa happy, which made him happy. There wasn't a lot to do in the office, so he would often traverse the halls and be nosy at the other people who worked there. Beric Dondarrion gave him the best head scratches, while Ramsay Snow babied him and told him he was such a good boy when they played fetch in the hallway. It was a stark contrast to how Ramsay was with other humans, with Beric being the exception to that rule, though Sandor noticed that Ramsay was a bit easier on people when Sandor was present. “Dogs are awesome,” Ramsay often said. 

Brienne Tarth, daughter to the head of TDC, was a good friend to Sansa, and had been the reason that Sansa had begun studying architecture in the first place. She was the woman who had almost adopted him, but her husband had convinced her to get a cat instead. She had been surprised when she saw Sandor, but was happy to know he had found a home. 

TDC was on the top floor of the office building, and Stark Data Services was just two floors down. When Sansa was in meetings with clients, Sandor liked to take the elevator down to visit. 

Robb Stark would play tug with him, if his wife, Merry, wasn't around. Sandor found it hilarious that Merry did the exact same thing, just so long as Robb wasn't around. One of these days, he was going to have to approach both of them at the same time with the tug rope, just to see what would happen. 

Ned Stark walked him up to the covered roof, which had an exercise area, and would run with him on the treadmill. He had to admit it was pretty fun. 

Catelyn Stark did yoga with him. That was not as fun and he usually farted a lot before giving up and wandering around to find the intern Rickon Stark, who gave him treats. Jory Cassel and Jeyne Poole were also good sources for treats, though Rickon got him the really good stuff. 

**********

Sandor was snoozing at Sansa’s feet under her desk when he felt the shift in her energy. Someone had just entered her office. Sandor was immediately alert, and positioned himself with his muzzle facing the intruder. There was a gap between Sansa’s desk and the floor, just large enough that Sandor could squeeze through it with a bit of effort. “W-what are you doing here?” she whispered. 

“Is that any way to greet the love of your life?” a male voice said. “I've missed you, my dear. It's been ages, and I had a lot of security guards to bribe to get me up here unseen.”

“Y-y-you're n-not supposed t-to be here…” 

“Oh, right. The restraining order. I forgot about that.” That was a lie even an idiot could spot. “I was very  _ upset _ about that, Sansa. It  _ hurt _ that you would do something like that. I've decided to forgive you, but first… you have to be  _ punished.” _

“G-get away from me!” She pushed away from her her desk. Sandor was already wiggling under the desk, trying to get to the man’s feet. 

“Whore! Get over here right  _ now!” _

_ “Stranger!!” _ Sansa screamed, just as Sandor's teeth clamped down on the man’s calf. 

“Son of a bitch!!” the man screamed. He punched Sandor in the spine, pain exploding in him but he just clamped down harder on the muscle. “Let me go!!”

Another punch, more pain, and Sandor shook his head violently, tearing the man’s muscle from his leg. Almost immediately he was latching on to another part, he couldn't tell what it was, just anything he could get his teeth on. Grab and tear, grab and tear.  _ You won't hurt her!! Never again!! I won't let you!! I'll kill you!! _ The man kept screaming, and a much sharper pain hit Sandor in the head, then another and another. He fell, but by then more people were coming in, helping Sansa, restraining the man who had tried to hurt her. 

Beric was leaning over him, petting his fur, soothing him and whispering, “Good dog, that's a good dog… You protected your master. Good dog…” 

Sandor heard screaming, frantic and more high pitched than the man.  _ Sansa… _ he realized. The world was getting hazy, sounds were becoming dull. He felt weak, barely able to keep his eyes open. 

“Stranger… oh gods… there's so much blood… Stranger, please, stay with me!” 

**********

He was aware of being on a cold steel table. Voices were muffled as the veterinarians worked on him. A tube was in his throat, helping him breathe. It seemed like hours passed before they stopped. There was annoying beeping sound. He vaguely thought that it was probably a heart monitor machine. 

“Stranger… I'm here.” 

He tried to move his head, but it was difficult. Sansa came into view. He felt like he was looking at her through water, but she was so beautiful. As beautiful as he had been ugly, she deserved a better life, a better dog. 

“You were so good, Stranger,” she whispered, touching her forehead to his. “You saved me. The doctors… they're not sure you'll make it through the night. But you will, won't you? My hound, my strong, brave hound, you'll prove them wrong. You'll live. Please, Stranger, live… for me.”

**********

Something was wrong. Well, not wrong, just… not right. It had been nearly two months since that horrid day. Stranger had survived his encounter with the heavy duty stapler her ex had attacked him with, but he was… different. Sansa couldn't say exactly why, but he wasn't…  _ He's not as human as he once was. _ Which was ridiculous, of course. He was a  _ dog. _ Of  _ course _ he wasn't human. But...the nagging suspicion remained. The dreams had stopped as well. The ones she cherished, the ones that made her feel safe. It was confusing and she knew it was crazy, but she had a theory. 

She called her uncle. “Uncle Brandon? It's Sansa. No, nothing's wrong. I was just wondering, may I speak to Old Nan?”

**********

She was making her usual trip to the hospital to visit patients. Sansa hadn't been back since Stranger’s injury, and she wasn't able to bring him until he was fully healed, which the doctors, human and animal, had finally given their approval of. It didn't seem right to visit without him. 

“Ms. Stark! We missed you,” a pretty doctor said. Sansa smiled at Dr. Shae.  

“I've missed coming here. You have no idea how happy I am to be able to return.”

Dr. Shae looked around. “And Stranger?”

Sansa looked around as well. “He was just here…” 

“Well, he is good dog. He probably missed the patients as much as you and couldn't wait to get started. Go on, dear. I'll see you after.”

Sansa wandered around, saying hello to everyone and looking for Stranger. Everyone she spoke to said they had seen her dog, but that he hadn't paused for long and seemed to be heading deeper into the hospital. 

_ If I'm right about my theory, I think I know where he's going. _ Sansa made a beeline to the last room she visited on her hospital round. As she got to the room in the long term care ward, she realized that she could hear a low voice, a raspy rumble that was pleasant to her ears. Her heartbeat quickened from anticipation.  _ Is he… Could he finally be awake? _

She entered the room hesitantly, knocking on the open door. “Excuse me? I'm sorry to intrude--” The breath left her lungs as she saw the man sitting up in his hospital bed. Stranger was on the bed as well, loving the head scratches he was receiving from the man. 

“No intrusion,” he said. “Been waiting for you.” When he looked straight into her eyes, Sansa's heart skipped a beat.  _ So familiar… _

“Y-you have?” she asked. 

He nodded. “Longer than you know.”

Sansa gulped. She had been preparing for this day, even wrote out a whole speech, but the words escaped her as she looked into the man's grey eyes. “You saved me, Sandor Clegane.”

He tilted his head questioningly. “So I've heard, but I honestly don't remember a fucking thing about it and  _ you _ are most certainly someone I couldn't forget.”

Sansa blushed. “Yes, well, you were a bit… I should start at the beginning, shouldn't I?”

Sandor gestured to a spot on the bed next to Stranger. Sitting down delicately so as not to hurt him inadvertently, she began. 

“My ex was not a good man. I won't go in to all of his bad qualities, but one vice in particular was gambling. He dragged me to a fight ring one night. He bet money on a giant of a man, a lot of money, more than I thought anyone would bet, but the banker, a man named Bronn, didn’t even bat an eyelash at the amount. It was supposed to be a sure win. The other man, a monster they said, was incredibly tall, but still so small when compared to the giant my ex bet on. When the banker asked me if I was going to place a bet, my ex gave him a twenty and said I was betting on the other man… on you. It was…” Sansa paused. She had never really been a big fan of fighting. Her brothers, her sister, her father, her uncles, all of them were very much into sports and knew about this sort of thing, boxing, MMA, and whatnot. “It was beautiful.”

He snorted a laugh. “You have an odd description of beauty.”

Sansa smiled bashfully. “I’ve come to realize that beauty can be found in strange places… I just mean… the way you moved, your efficiency, the pure power behind it all… it was just… absolutely beautiful. You have a certain grace when you fight.”

Sandor seemed embarrassed, but pleased by her compliment. “I’ll go ahead and assume that was the night I beat Wun Wun. Not a lot of guys that can manage to dwarf me.”

Sansa nodded. “It was. Thankfully, the banker gave me my winnings when my ex wasn’t looking. He also told me about you, more than I ever thought to know about a person I hadn't even met, as my ex… well, he was waiting for you, made me wait with him, and he followed you. I don’t know where he got the pipe from. I didn’t even see it until it was too late… I tried to stop him, but… he's stronger than he looks and there's no talking to him when he's drunk. I thought you were dead… and then he turned on me, ranting about how it was my fault since I bet on you… he punched me, was about to use the pipe on me, when you rose up, your eyes were glowing this weird unearthly color and you… you did to him what you do to your opponents in the ring. I think the only reason you didn't kill him was because you passed out.” 

“I thought I had died,” he said quietly. 

“You did. But I'm getting ahead of myself. I was so in shock, I didn't call for help right away. There was a dog, a female because I think she was pregnant, she snapped me out of it. She sat with you, with us. I kept talking to you, telling you to stay with me…” It had been more than that. She had been desperate, frantic, and had promised to help him, to save him as he had saved her, to give him a home, to be his friend. Bronn had described a sad and lonely man when he told her about Sandor Clegane. It was something she could relate to, and as the light was slowly ebbing away in his eyes, she fought to keep him with her. She had pleaded with him to live, if only for her sake. 

“The ambulance arrived and you… you died. They were able to revive you, obviously, but you've been in a coma since that day. My mother’s family owns this hospital and my great uncle made sure you had the best care.”

“I seem to be in your debt, Sansa.”

Sansa looked at him. He knew her name. She hadn't mentioned it, and maybe he had asked around and been told by the nurses that she visited him often, but… She decided to take a chance. “Are you? You've saved my life not once but twice.”

“Twice?”

She nodded. It was insane, but his eyes… and her dreams… and what Old Nan had told her. “Yes, the second time… it was when I called you Stranger and you tore a man's leg off for me with just your teeth.”

His eyes widened at that. “You knew? You knew that was me? How?”

She shook her head, relief of being right and  _ not _ crazy filling her with the confidence to continue. “Not at the time. Just… Stranger hasn't been the same since.” She looked down at her dog, who had fallen asleep on Sandor's leg. “And I dreamt of you. Of you in this body. We talked. We talked so much, about anything and everything… and there was one conversation we had, you said something about how you liked belly rubs, which I knew Stranger liked, and then another conversation that… You said you hated squirrels, which was really odd, and then a few days later, it was the first time I had seen Stranger come across some squirrels and he freaked right out at them. It was kind of adorable but it just made me think, you know? Put it with the other things and…yeah… I honestly thought I was going crazy for thinking it was even possible.” Sansa sighed and smiled at him. “Do you remember when I took you to my family's home up North?”

He nodded. “Winterfell. Your uncle was having a party in your grandfather’s honor.”

Sansa smiled. “That's right. Remember Old Nan?”

“Crazy old bat.”

Sansa giggled. “Well, she used to tell my siblings and I stories about the most fantastical things… including warging and dreamwalkers.” 

“Warg-ing?”

She nodded. “When your spirit leaves your body and takes over another, usually an animal. I think… that dog in the alley, I think she was Stranger’s mother. And I think when you died, your spirit fled into his unborn body.”

Sandor was silent, looking down at the dog. “So… I was just hijacking his body while my own lay here in this bed?” he finally asked. 

“Something like that. Not that that's a bad thing. He doesn't seem to hate you. In fact, I'd say he missed you. He came straight here, didn't even wait for me. I get the feeling you may have saved his life as well, taking control as you did.”

“My pack…  _ our _ pack… we were the only ones to survive the dog fighting ring. Our siblings, our mother… they didn't have the fire in them. He didn't either, I guess, if he let me take over his body so completely that I didn't even know he was there.”

“But you did. You had that fire inside you.”

“Never was one to turn away from a fight… never had the choice…” He sighed. “So… what now?”

“Well, you don't really have an apartment anymore. The building you lived in got condemned a few months ago. I was able to put your things in storage, but…” Sansa bit her lip, nervous about what she was about to propose. “I was thinking, maybe you could move in with me?”

His eyes went really wide at that. 

“It's just… you've been living there for a while already, as Stranger, and I've missed you terribly. I feel like I know you already from our dream talks… and… from visiting you here so often…” She took his hand in hers. “If it becomes unbearable to live with me, I'll find you another place. I just…”

_ I love you. _ It was completely insane, she knew it, but between everything that had happened, she also knew it was absolutely true. She was in love with this man. 

“Yeah, that sounds… great, actually.” He looked incredibly embarrassed but also happy. “What are we going to tell your family? You're shacking up with a guy you supposedly barely know, an unemployed, former cage fighter.”

She giggled. “We'll figure it out. Quickest way for them to get over it is for you to get to know them all over again. You do have insider knowledge, you know. It won't be hard to win them over.”

“Like hell I’m doing yoga with your mom again. It was fucking brutal as a dog, and I was way more flexible.” Sansa laughed uncontrollably at that. 

“Ok, no yoga. Dad might offer you a job, if only to keep an eye on you.”

“If he doesn't, I'll apply anyway. Can't sit around all day, would drive me nuts. Only reason I'm still in this bed is because I'm still doing physical therapy to be able to just walk.” He looked at her. “I'm not a good man, Sansa.”

She got off the bed and walked closer to him, taking his face in her hands and kissing him gently. “But you are. Maybe you did terrible things, but it doesn't change the fact that you protected me when you didn't have to, that you were good to me. I believe you are good and that is that.”

“There's no arguing with you, is there?” He sounded resigned, but content.  


“You can try, but no, not really. You're mine now, Sandor Clegane. My hound, my strong, brave hound…”

He chuckled. 

“What? What is it?” she asked, smiling. 

“Nothing, just... that was my nickname in the ring. The Hound. I hated it. But when you say it… it's like a compliment. I like that.”

“It's a new start, a rebirth for both of us, I think.” Sansa kissed him again. “I look forward to getting to know you all over again.” He didn't remember all the promises she had made him the night they first met, but she planned on keeping every single one of them.  _ A family. A home. Never leaving you alone again. And now another promise. Love. _


End file.
